Lumocolours
by high-society
Summary: *WARNING* heavily involves Malfoys. A few spoilers for OotP. *Strange events and circumstances lead to the real reason Voldemort went after the Potters.* Does NOT involve ANYONE being the "Gryffindor Heir".


Title: Lumocolours (prologue)  
  
Author name: ana maria (electric-rainbow)  
  
Author email: glitterz_n_fishnet@hotmail.com  
  
Category: Drama  
  
Sub Category: Suspense  
  
Rating: PG-13-R  
  
Summary: Overall or just this installment? ::evil grin::  
  
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Author notes: This is the beginning of a work I'm pretty sure I'll be proud of. I've been planning it for a while, and I think it's rather original. As always with my stories, nothing is as it seems until it is presented out in the open, with witnesses, and even then, deception is possible. No, I have not finished reading OotP. So sue me. But what I have finished has been worked into the story, so there may be spoilers for you. Don't kick my ass. I did warn you. I realize some of the material in OotP may interfere with the plot. That's okay. It's just a fic. It's just my opinion of some events that may not be the opinion of others. If you don't like it, don't read it. Thanks.  
  
-electric  
  
Dedication: To Matt, who inspires me, Jordan, who dares to love me, and TJ and Thomas for being great friends and motivating me.  
  
***  
  
Love is always a product and victim of circumstance.  
  
***  
  
The party centering around the ballroom in the Black mansion was dwindling into a small gathering. It hadn't been much of a party anyway, as Lucius would explain to his father when he returned to Malfoy Manor.  
  
Right now, Lucius stood, in the dim light, where nobody could appreciate his aristocratic choice of attire, over Narcissa Black, who lay spread out on a bed of torn sheets. And he stood there, a lithe silhouette outlined in moonlight, glaring down at the feverish girl before him. She was composed, but fading.  
  
He smirked, reaching for her bandaged wrists. He examined them with indifferent eyes, gaze trailing over the sewn up cuts and pearly scars that marred her marble skin.  
  
" What a loss you represent, Narcissa. " He frowned, dropping her arms coldly into the sheets.  
  
-- Ahhh, but darling, you made me this way. -- She looked up, her pale blue eyes shining with tears. - Don't you know that tears only exist outside? Or after midnight, smothered between gray and black sheets. --  
  
She shook her head, chastising herself. That made no sense. None of it made sense.  
  
" I've brought your Christmas gift. Though you hardly deserve it." He uncurled his gloved hand, producing a small white kitten and tossing it cruelly on the bed, where the faded sheets peeled away from Narcissa's pale thigh. The small creature stood, dazed and drunkenly turned to peer at Lucius with confused spring blue eyes. " You aren't my problem anymore, vermin."  
  
"Were you talking to me, or the cat, Lucius?"  
  
"Both." He turned, hesitating, then pushing onward coldly, " You make things so much harder than they should be, or ever have been, Narcissa. Especially when the whole world has perfect seats to your pathetic concert of melodrama and conflict. 'Presenting, ladies and gentleman, LIFE - or lack thereof'."  
  
His shoulders were tense and he braced himself in the window frame, looking down at the powdered sugar grounds surrounding her father's manor. " Did you forget, darling? Or did you just realize that your bruises don't make a halo and that all these scars cant be traded in for a pair of gorgeous, feathered wings. When did you decide to blame all your mistakes on me? I'd really like to know; I'd really like to understand; I'd really like to help you; I'd really like to keep loving you."  
  
Narcissa scoffed. " You don't know love, Lucius."  
  
"Don't I?"  
  
She shook her head, " You know Lucius, I used to think you were worth all this." She made a weak sweeping motion to the dimly lit room around them.  
  
"And now you realize, it was all a tragic, tragic mistake?" He mocked, swirling on her.  
  
She lay silent in the sheets, looking up at the canopy of her bed as Lucius moved from the window to the bed, placing one hand on either side of her body.  
  
" We don't make mistakes, Narcissa. Mistakes are for muggles. We always have to own up. One way or another." His face was inches from hers, snarling, " Don't ever forget that, Narcissa. Ever."  
  
***  
  
The door shuddered with each impact, the loud hollow sound reverberating through the room.  
  
Sirius was noticeably pissed.  
  
He walked toward the door, holding a pair of small, oval glasses in his hand. He saw a figure through the rippling crystal of the window, shouting and swinging something.  
  
" COME OUT YOU BASTARD!"  
  
"Miss, this is the boy's dorm," Sirius said impatiently, " May we help you -- by say, putting you on the right bus? A short one perhaps, going south?" He smirked.  
  
"MISS?" green eyes widened in disbelief, and one arched eyebrow flew up. " OPEN UP YOU BLOODY WANKER! You think you can hide form ME? Not after what YOU'VE done you poor excuse for a backward dog!"  
  
Sirius was shocked, and he gaped open-mouthed as he realized her insults were flung at James. The portrait to the left of the door took a hit with a flyaway spark from her wand and flung off down the stairs, screaming as it made contact with Remus Lupin's head.  
  
"Miss, if you'll kindly--" At that moment the fingers gripping her wand whitened as her hold tightened. The doorknob blasted from the door and it swung open with full force.  
  
" Budge out of my effing way, you pathetic sycophant. I've got a few things for Jamsie-poo and some of them aren't words."  
  
She stalked passed him, glaring.  
  
" James! You have one psychopath of a girlfriend."  
  
From a corner bed, behind a scarlet canopy, lazy words emitted, darkening. " She is not my girlfriend, and as she's clearly demonstrated here, she can't seem to stand me." 


End file.
